1,308 THE FRONT BOTTOMS, Vundabar, Oxford O2 Academy, Saturday 9th December 2023

 

Likely my final gig of another stellar 49-strong year, this one, due to my impending knee operation next week, and it’s a late call… Jami discovered that their recent TikTok band “find”, Noo Joisey’s US alt-indie veterans The Front Bottoms, were doing a UK tour and was well up it; they’re a band I’ve been aware of for some time but not delved into (I think mainly because of their rather off-putting name – still, that doesn’t stop me liking The New Pornographers, I suppose…), but on doing so I enjoyed what I heard. Like Waterparks, they’re a hot mess of influences; chunky Weezer-esque post-grunge rock, ramshackle Violent Femmes-like alt-folk and, more notably, millennial emo-pop-punk, all overlaid with We Are Scientists-like humorous and overly wordy lyricism and the deadpan, sardonic vocal delivery of main man Brian Sella. We picked up their new album (their 8^th!) “You Are Who You Hang Out With” and ended up booking tix for this Oxford gig as, unfortunately, the more convenient Bristol date clashes with my op date!

So, anticipating parking issues as usual for Oxford, we set off at 4, only to park up in a 2/3rds full Tesco Car Park at 5, a full hour before doors! Grabbed a pretty decent Chinese meal in the nearby Rice Box, then, before joining the priority queue, Jami immediately making friends with some punters who’d come from Kings Lynn! This seemed to be a theme, as we grabbed a barrier spot, extreme house right, on entry and chatted to a mum and daughter (hi Eve!) who’d journeyed from Worksop, having booked to go to the Sheffield O2 date, before that venue was flooded and this Oxford date added as replacement! Support Vundabar were on at an early 7 p.m.; a Boston 3-piece, they were all over the place, their stuff careering from plodding and slow-burn Weezer “Sweater Song” rewrites to off-kilter backbeat and weird time-signature Primus, Truman’s Water or even (very!) early XTC soundalikes, with staccato barked vocals and lots of stop-starts and pregnant pauses. The type of songs you don’t know that have actually finished until the vocalist says, “thank you”, in fact… An early Mission Of Burma lyric homage (“that’s when I reach for my resolver/ dissolver”?) and a couple of more conventional numbers, particularly the anthemic Vaccines-like “Let Me Leave” were the most notable points of a difficult and scattergun set. 

A quick turnaround, however, as the 5-piece Front Bottoms joined us dead on 8 p.m.! The moustachioed, Geography teacher chic vocalist Sella declared, “we’re back!” to screams from a surprisingly young crowd (maybe they’ve all discovered this lot via TikTok, like Jami!), the band then ploughing headlong into the frenzied attack of the ramshackle backwoods Appalachian pseudo-rockabilly “West Virginia”, followed up in short order by the quickfire thrashy Modern Baseball-esque emo punk of “Emotional”. In a hurry, this lot, and no mistake… “This is night 1 back in the UK!” announced a buoyant Sella to cheers; that being so, there were no first night nerves on show, as The Front Bottoms were pretty damn excellent tonight, the opening double whammy setting the tone for a set of frantic and frenetic indie rock, with the kinetic Sella the main focal point with his gabbling yet deadpan, caustic delivery and 100 mph acoustic strumming, although I also rather enjoyed the frequent in-your-face 3-part pseudo choral harmonies of Sella, guitarist AJ Peacox and excellent bassist Natalie Newbold. A slightly slower “Punching Bag” saw a front row punter brandish a pair of inflatable boxing gloves to cheers; the coruscating hoedown “Be Nice To Me” saw Ric Flair-esque “wooo”s echo around the venue in response to the werewolf cries; and “Beers” (Sella declaring, “I’ve been waiting years for this fucking moment!”) was probably my set highlight, a soaring Menzingers-like powerpop number with a roof-raising, coming of age chorus, although the hook of the subsequent “Montgomery Forever” generated an even louder singalong from the FB massive.

 A call for requests saw another front row fan hand up a beautifully embroidered pink blanket bearing the message “Please Play “Lover Boy”” – sadly, they didn’t do it (or Jami’s favourite “Lone Star”, either), although the backbeat “Swear To God” and high-octane “Father” were request highlights. The lengthy, almost shoegazey outro of an absorbing, vocoder-vocalled “Paris” was a bit of a stylistic outlier, but they were back into the frantic tumbling cascade of “Au Revoir (Adios)” in short order, to end a breathless set. Another mass singalong to the hooky, angst-fuelled yet joyous “Twin Sized Mattress”, the finale of a 3-song encore, closed out a rambunctious, ramshackle and racey set; an early one too, as we hit the road in short order and hit home for 10.40, Brian Sella’s set-closing remarks ringing in our ears. “We’re called The Front Bottoms – please tell your friends about us!” After this fine performance, I certainly will…